


Tall Order

by nellipot



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, that's about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 06:03:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14129652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nellipot/pseuds/nellipot
Summary: “Didn’t you like it?” He asked. “Didn’t you like hearing me say it?”“You know I fucking did. You knew it would get my ass to call.”“Yeahhh,” the self-celebration was apparent.lil baby ficlet because the Conan interview made me happy





	Tall Order

**Author's Note:**

> yes, I should be writing my other fic, im the worst

“Sucked a dick on film?” Timmy scoffed, not even saying hello because Armie’s voice had been sickeningly sweet when he’d picked up, _did you need something?_ , and there was no reason to further his satisfaction.      
      
“Mmm...mhm… I have been known to suck a dick or two. Why do you ask?”

“I’m going to fuckin’ murder you.”

“What do you want me to say, Timmy?” He was laughing despite the innocent cadence of his voice, Timmy could feel the way the post-talk show high was vibrating within him even through the phone, the reaction too familiar to forget.

Timmy knew the shows relaxed him, got him out of those canvas-fold-up-chair, eerie-press-tour ruts and into an audience that laughed and cheered at all his dumb dad jokes. Armie was good at it, he could sit there, nod, (yeah,yeah,yeah) say something that was funny while also being relatable, and of course still infinitely charming. That’s why Timmy watched, why everyone watched, today being no exception.

Of course today did have the exception of Armie getting _too_ relaxed, probably, the man was an f-bomb waiting to happen even when he was restless. Even now, confidence was oozing out of his voice.

“Didn’t you like it?” He asked. “Didn’t you like hearing me say it?”

“You know I fucking did. You knew it would get my ass to call.”

“Yeahhh,” the self-celebration was apparent.

“God, I miss you.”

He hated losing out on sharing things with Armie, the hardest part about their press tour coming to an end.

“Cheer up, baby, I’ll send you a track suit.” The rush of his breath was barely noticeable.

“God, I miss you.” 

He was smiling with the words. They had awe, and gentleness, and that infectious giddy buzz that was inexplicably Armie.

“So how fucked are you?” Timmy finally asked, resisting the urge for any wistful sigh. He curled around the phone like it was precious to ease the impulse. Armie’s hum was nonchalant, defiant. 

“Eh, people don’t take me seriously anymore.” 

It was a fair assessment. They pronounced their love for each other every chance they got, never resulting in any real repercussions. They settled into silence briefly before Armie spoke again. 

“So what are you wearing?”

“Oh my god.” 

“I’m making the most of this _very_ unexpected call.”  
   
Timmy dragged his cheek down with his hand, sighed and rolled over, pretended to be reluctant when he pushed his hand down his boxers. 

“Are you even home yet?” He asked, instead of answering.

“Mmm-nope,” Armie slurred casually. “But listening to you moan on the way there sounds amazing.”

“ _Fuck,_ ” Timmy’s head leaned back on the pillows and arched up slightly. He was already feeling worked up at the thought of Armie in public, wanting to do nothing other than whisper obscene things into his phone, like Timmy could keep him from all the way across the country.

“They all knew it was you,” Armie continued. “I didn’t have to say it. I wanted to. _I’ve sucked Timmy’s dick on camera,_ that’s what they all heard.”

“You’ve sucked it more often than that,” Timmy laughed breathily. His hand was only palming himself lazily, feeling a small sense of pride, of possessiveness, from Armie’s words. He loved that he was an implication, that they were mindlessly linked to one another. 

“Mmm,” Armie hummed happily in agreement. “Are you touching?”

“Tell me to.”

Armie laughed like he was flattered. “Fuck up into your hand, Sweet Tea, I wanna hear you take it.”

“Okay,” Timmy sighed, closing his eyes as his fingers wrapped around his dick, his phone hanging off his ear, held up by his pillow. He bit his lip and made little moans as he worked himself fast, needy.

“I love watching you get yourself off,” Armie said thoughtfully. “Your head curls on your shoulder and your face gets all crumpled. Your fucking _lips,_ god, I’m gonna make myself cry. Fucking delectable.”

“Want you here,” Timmy breathed. His hips were lifting off the bed quickly, no doubt heard on the other end of the line. Armie had to know how desperate he was getting.

“I know baby; I will be soon.” Armie consoled. 

“Armie, can I –” he pleaded, 

“Yes, _god_ , yes.”

He whined as his orgasm shook through him, knowing that Armie wanted to hear his whimpers turning him on even further. 

“This was the most productive interview I’ve ever been apart of,” Armie teased, but Timmy could hear him breathing loudly through his nose. 

Timmy cleaned himself up and snapped a picture; his boxers bunched at his thighs, his face in a slight pout.

 _THINK OF ME ;)_ he captioned it, hitting send.

 _Tall order..._ he got back, only seconds later.

**Author's Note:**

> Armie was so cute in that interview!!!!!! ugh!!!!!!


End file.
